Fools
by shattered petal
Summary: Could there be a worser nightmare than having to share a bed with Roy Mustang? In Olivier's point of view, no. No, there isn't.


**author's note**: Heyo. So, I felt it had been quite some time since I wrote anything for these two. There's nothing particularly special about this oneshot. Just Roy and Olivier being jackasses to each other, which always ends in amusing results. I hope you enjoy.

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**Title**: Fools  
**Genres**: Humour/Friendship  
**Rating**: T (for Olivier's potty mouth)  
**Couple**: Slight Roy/Olivier

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'You're hogging up the bed!'

'Move that gigantic ass of yours than there'll be more room!'

'D–– Did you just call my ass _gigantic_?'

Roy Mustang couldn't respond because Olivier had already punched him in the jaw. Yelping, he flew back and off the bed, landing heavily on his backside. A groan escaped his lips while he scrambled back to his feet, but he was unable to climb into bed again. Fuming, arms folded and looking _very_ pissed off, Olivier was literally _daring_ him to place a _finger_ on the bed if he had the guts.

Wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth, he pulled a crooked grin. 'You look at that. General Armstrong is sensitive about her figure.' The pillow smacked him in the face.

'As if what you say is going to damage my self-esteem. Tsk. At least I have a figure to be proud of.'

Roy cocked a brow. 'It's okay to want some.'

'I'd rather roll around in cow shit.' Olivier grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around her shoulders. 'Now, just because not enough rooms were rented out in this hotel and we have to share, that doesn't mean we _are_ going to share. You're taking the floor.'

'You know what, Olivier? I've had awful back pains lately and––'

'No.'

'But––'

'No.'

Damn it. Clearly, Roy had lost the battle and he honestly didn't have a lot of energy in him to continue the fight. Instead, he grabbed his lone pillow and strolled to the other end of the room. Plopping the pillow down, he looked back at her.

'Can I at least have something to lie on?' The last word didn't leave his lips when a jumper was flung at him.

'Use that. And you have a luxury there, Mustang! Back at Briggs you'll be lucky if you even_ have_ a place to sleep.'

'That's why your men are always so moody. That's why you are, too. Fatigue usually brings out the worst in us. You see, Olivier, we're far more advanced back in Central. For starters, we have _food––'_

'Care to remind me who saved your sorry after on the Promised Day?'

'I admit, Hawkeye and your brother were excellent that day, so you don't have to remind me.'

Olivier's smile was twisted and cruel. 'You'd be dead, Mustang. Not that I'd complain.'

'We would _all_ be dead if it weren't for the Eric brothers anyway. Don't try and take all the credit, Olivier.'

'It's _General Armstrong_, all right?' She snapped.

'In the bedroom _too_?'

Scowling, she flicked off the light and lay into bed. Roy managed to spread out his jumper somewhat, but not so much that it would make his sleeping place comfy. Sighing heavily, he rolled onto his back, and stared at the darkness.

It was a very rare sight to be in the same room as a sleeping Olivier. Or to be in the same room as her _anyway_. However, Roy was an exception. Knowing her since the age of four, he had witnessed her sleep every now and again, but it sure was unfortunate when Grumman announced they would have to share a room on this mission. Yes, Roy noticed the funny grin daring its way up Grumman's lips, too.

That man was outrageous sometimes. Roy honestly _did_ question if he and Hawkeye were related.

About an hour passed, and Roy was getting very uncomfortable. Rolling onto his side, he wondered if Olivier had fallen asleep yet. If so, he could try and slide in next to her. The bed was comfortable and... he guessed having her beside him would offer some extra warmth. Surely he couldn't be blamed for that.

Quietly, he slowly stood up and tiptoed to where she lay. Roy stopped, eyebrows raised, and could hear her gentle, slow breaths. A sign she was unconscious and dreaming. Tongue sticking out slightly, he carefully pulled back to the sheet and crept in, before lying on his back.

He was amazed to know he had survived.

_Phew~_

Roy rolled onto his side, and was a little surprised to smell a little– was that _perfume_? Yes, it was. A little bit, but the scent of gunpowder soon came to him. Really, he had always related the smell of gunpowder to Olivier, and maybe that was bad. After all, she was his friend. To associate her with war seemed poisonous.

But maybe he wasn't relating her to war at all. He was more associating her to her career, what she was good at. While many would frown and consider it a man's job, Roy would only frown back. Olivier was equally skilled with artillery than most of the higher ups, if not _more so_.  
As much as he hated to admit it, it _was_ her gender which let her down and how society could only shake its head in disappointment. Roy remembered how her Father used to behave, the fact he wasn't so pleased his first child wasn't a son.

No one knew this, but Roy had a feeling Olivier was only desperate to succeed in order to prove to her Father that gender didn't matter. During her time at the academy, she worked constantly and never once spent time socialising. She was an odd egg, to be honest, but Roy managed to look past her obsession of being noticed by her old man. Hopefully, he would notice now. Olivier had done a lot during the Promised Day, as did her younger brother.

So used to the spotlight being taken away from her, Roy wondered if Olivier hadn't already given up.

It was sad. Just _sad_.

Roy yawned and shuffled closer, accidentally hitting her knee with his. A bit shocked, he opened his eyes. His vision had adjusted to the darkness and he could see her slightly in the dim light. Mouth shaped like an "o", Roy watched her for a moment, then he smiled crookedly. This was amusing.

If not a little weird, too.

There was something nice about watching her sleep, though. It frustrated him how she pretended to act so _stoic_, like the very mountains of Briggs. Cold and chilling. Even her presence managed to send shivers down people's spines. Sure, it was an admirable trait to possess. Many instantly obeyed your commands and wouldn't dare challenge you.

Respect you? Well, at least her men respected her. Dearly. And that was what was so magnificent about her. Despite the background for most of Briggs' men, she carved them into fine soldiers herself with discipline, and she didn't let her gender let her down. Not this time. She built an army of bears all by herself, even when the higher ups laughed at her.

And, yeah, the Flame Alchemist secretly admired her as well. For he was probably the only one who didn't laugh.

A click of his fingers, and fire ignited at his fingertips, illuminating the room slightly. Yet he had a clear view of her face. Now that the mask had melted away, she did appear calm. Ridiculously young. Dressed in that heavy uniform, Olivier seemed older and taller, but now–– she was barely recognisable.

Roy extinguished the flame.

Nah, she looked recognisable. Very recognisable to him, at least. Human. She looked human, and he liked human, he liked _normalcy_. He liked what he recognised. He didn't like it when someone he cared about pushed themselves but, of course, if she didn't push herself, she wouldn't be where she was now.

Once he had done this, but it was a joke and maybe this time it was a joke too. However, he kissed her. Unfortunately, Roy wasn't as smooth as most made him out to be, and he managed to hit her lips hard with his teeth which woke her up. Olivier was quick at responding, and in less than a second, Roy was pushed into the wall, the brick crumbling slightly from the force of her hold on him.

'What the _Hell_?'

'... I must have, uh, been dreaming.'

'While _kissing _me? That's convincing, Mustang.' Just to show she wasn't playing around, Olivier kneed him in the stomach. 'This is why it's impossible to be in the same room as you. You just assume I'm in it all for _this_.' Olivier let her knee uncomfortably nudge into his groin painfully.

'Sorry––'

'Yeah, you are! When I'm done with _you_, you'll be even _more_ sorry.'

Roy held up his hands in an attempt to calm her. 'Oi, you'll wake everyone up. It was a joke.'

'Hilarious your jokes are.'

'Naturally. Oof!' Roy buckled over when she punched him in the stomach.

'Get back on the floor, mutt.'

'It's not comfy.'

'After what you just did to me, if you really believe I'm going to let you come crawling back in with me, then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought. And I didn't even know that was possible.'

Roy rubbed his sore wound. 'I'll leave you be. Promise.'

'What's _wrong_ with you?' Olivier's eyes burned with hate, but he was quite amused. Her anger frightened a lot, but he could only laugh. That was what made him so... _unusual_ to her.

'So little is wrong with me. Hey, come on, I won't do that again, all right?'

'_Why_ did you do it anyway?'

Roy shrugged.

'... That's it?'

'Uhm.' Roy raised his shoulders helplessly. 'Because I'm... hopelessly in love with you? Is that better?'

For the next five minutes, Roy had his head back, and a tissue pressed against his bleeding nose.  
Well. That went down successfully.

'You've given me more injuries in one night than I've ever received on the battlefield.'

'That's because you've never really _been_ on one,' Olivier retorted.

'Funny.' Roy swerved his gaze to her. 'People are really going to wonder what happened tonight, you know?'

'Let them think,' Olivier said, sitting down on the other side of the bed. 'I don't care.'

Roy frowned. 'Why...?'

'People think a lot of things, Mustang. What matters the most is what _you_ think. You can waste hours trying to convince someone what's true, or you can just walk away.'

'I guess you prefer the easier approach?'

'I prefer the approach with the best results. I've spent years of people talking about me, spreading rumours, some rumours you wouldn't want to hear. What makes you think I give a shit? I know who I am. That's all that matters. You clear on that?'

'Mm.' Roy removed the tissue from his nose and sniffed. 'You don't deserve rumours being spread about you.'

'They've died down for now.' Olivier looked at him. 'And why do you care? You know you're also victim to gossip.'

'Don't pretend you haven't enjoyed listening the latest.'

'That you hooked up with a man who you thought was a woman?'

Roy raised his brows. 'Oh. Pretty sure that happened last year.'

That earned him a little smile from her. Olivier approached where he sat to inspect his beaten nose, and confirmed that it was only broken slightly and would heal. Of course Roy would have his wounds from this evening checked out, but he just nodded at her synopses.

'I like your eyes.'

Olivier groaned. 'Great. He's delirious.'

'Is that a good reason to share the bed with you?'

No. In fact, Olivier would love more than anything to push him back onto the floor, but she had to admit she had been quite rough on him. Glancing over at the time, they only had three more hours left until sunrise. Looking at him, she couldn't believe what she was going to allow.

'Fine.'

Roy smirked. 'Nice to know your heart isn't completely black.'

'Careful.'

During the remainder of the night, Roy was careful. He slept at the far side of the bed, away from her. Silence crept in between them again, and he honestly thought she had fallen asleep, until he was woken up to her snuggling into him.

Okay. Maybe she wasn't exactly _snuggling_. Olivier Armstrong didn't _snuggle_. Maybe she just moved in her sleep, but he wasn't going to push her away. Instead, Roy brought an arm around her, and pulled Olivier close, in a tight, warm embrace.

This was nice.

Even if he would wake up tomorrow morning with a broken arm.


End file.
